The Accidental Farmer
by The Big City Kitty
Summary: Are lazy, careless and inattentive qualities that make a good farmer? Claire sure hopes so after a drunken mishap lands her en route to Mineral Town. Stuff ensues? You bet.


**A/N**** I've wanted to write a HM story for the longest time now. Hope you enjoy and read the notes after for **FUN TIMES** ****^-^**** Well probably not, but I would still like to hear your opinions all the same. **

**This game is, as I'm sure you've worked out, set in Mineral town. So if you've played any of the games featuring MT (64, FoMT, MFoMT, BTN etc.) it would help. Though if you just like HM you already know the deal anyhow, look up the characters if you'd like but it should be fine.**

**Let's roll amigos. **

x.

I've been around the deck three times now, looking over the rails of the ship for any sign of escape that does not include watery death. Where are the lifeboats? The crew are refusing to tell me after they pegged that my shouts of "I want to get of this ship! Turn it around now!" were for real. But what else did they expect? I'm the only passenger aboard now that the others have left for what I can only assume are more palatable destinations. I imagine that can't speak well for my stop.

Where am _I _heading for? Mineral Town. _Mineral Town_, I don't even know where that is! Who does?

The events that lead me to my current disaster are hazy and flashback-like. Just half an hour ago we had left the last port, the few remaining travellers having departed and I was doped up to the eyeballs on sweet lady obliviousness.

It had all seemed like a dream, or maybe one of those relaxation tapes they sell on the shopping channels. I had been staring out; eyes half-lidded and glazed, at the water for an indistinguishable amount of time. It didn't matter though. The waves were serene and lapping gently against the hull. The faint hum of the engine and the scurrying of the few crewmen aboard all fell into a pleasant background lulling me into a nice sense of calm. Everything that had happened before was simply not important, not when the world was so at peace. Maybe those hippies were on to something.

Then a small jolt, the ship hitting a cluster of waves the wrong way or a porpoise or something threw me out of my deck chair. When I say small that means it _would _have been small to anyone else, but my incurable and life-threatening clumsiness will amplify minor obstructions by a factor of five at the least.

Picking myself up of the floor, which usually takes up a not inconsiderable portion of my day, a rush of alertness took over. The pleasant fog dissipated, leaving in its wake the beginnings of a splitting headache. Everything speeded up and got louder. I could hear the crew shouting to one another behind me, squawking seagulls gliding above and the long, loud blare of the foghorn. All of which I hadn't noticed before and were now stabbing at my skull in unison.

The cogs in my brain slowly started to turn and finally came to a conclusion.

"Jesus, don't tell me this is _actually _happening!" And then the screaming began.

x.

_Land ho, _I thought sniffing desolately after the passing of a recent bout of tears. It wasn't quite the five stages of grief, more the stages of oh-shit-what-have-I-done-where-the-hell-am-I. But after shouting, running about the ship, sobbing and attempting to bargain with the crew I certainly hadn't reached acceptance in the slightest.

Okay, okay here's what I'm going to do; as soon as I arrive I'll ask the first person I see how to leave. Hopefully they won't find that to be too insulting to their hometown and give a coherent answer. Unlike the crew of this ship.

Upon politely asking where in hades this godforsaken place was, the captain proceeded to give the most mystifying set of directions I'd ever heard. I didn't recognize the names of any of the little backwaters he mentioned in reference and I pretty sure he broke some key laws of physics.

"So the only way to reach this place is by ship, right?"

"Right"

"So it's an island then?"

"No"

"…"

I had a little time before we reached this unknown abyss of the earth so I decided to try and piece together what exactly had happened in the last few days. The crew tells me I had boarded without a word, mutely handing over my pass and staggered over to a deck chair to fall into in which I stayed for most of the journey.

The last thing I recall is a typical Friday evening with my girlfriends. I think we should be proud at the diversity of problems in our lives and the sheer amount of things that piss us off on a daily basis. With a glass of wine in hand, some this week were gleefully bitching about their boyfriends, the neighbor's cat and that strange smell in the hallway with no discernable cause. And there was me, with a whole bottle in hand ripping into the most prevalent evil in my life, my job. After that nothing.

And then I saw it. The dying sun broke out one last time through the clouds, hitting the deck and illuminating the object by my feet. Poking out of the medium sized leather shoulder bag I seemed to have brought with me was a flier. Pulling it out to inspect, the sense of horror that had been building up only increased. The pictures scattered throughout were of verdant fields and freakishly happy farm animals frolicking in the sun.

MINERAL TOWN

Would you like to enjoy a peaceful and refreshing farm life?

For more info, contact:

This could not be good.

.x

We arrived and I quickly got of the ship and onto the tiny docks ahead. Not out of choice, but the crew seemed rather eager to get rid of me and were willing to use their combined effort to pry my fingers off the railings. I knew they must be returning to civilization, but my lack of a ticket and somewhat unrestrained manner earlier had put them off.

After several minutes of screaming abuse at the departing ship, I turned around to see if any townsfolk were gawping at my display in shock. The beach was deathly quiet.

There were a couple of shacks on the side, both with no lights through the windows and seemingly void of all life. The only sounds were the slow crash of the waves on sand. The scene was unnerving as any horror movie opening, the type where some kind of stalking beast preys on the lone traveller.

I scarped to the stairs at the opposite end, tripping and half crawling up them, looking quite ridiculous I imagine. Oh, well, there was no one there to see it.

I entered the town square and pulled out the map I had found, folded with the ill-fated flyer. Also in my bag I had found what, in my inebriated state, I had believed to be everything I needed to start my brand new shiny life. Some scrunched up items of clothing, my mobile phone (no signal bars, no charger), some expired pizza coupons and a jar of peanut butter. Luckily my purse and travel bag of toiletries/makeup had survived the cull of the rest of the things I keep in my work bag. To the discovery of which I had almost cried with relief.

I didn't meet a soul on the way to; well I guess _my farm_, ugh. Despite this place being pitifully small. Where do they get off calling themselves a town? Village perhaps, though a hamlet would be more accurate and kinder than _pit_.

Turning the last corner I came upon the worst (and I suppose only) excuse for a farm I had ever seen. From what I had seen, the rest of the town may have been small as hell but at least it was well maintained and had, dare I say it, a little rustic charm to it. This however was simply a dump.

If I had genuinely been taken in by this whole 'peaceful farm live' nonsense I would be very disappointed right now.

The field was dense with debris. Weeds covered almost every surface and speckled between were the odd logs and rocks, some of which were massive, jagged and nothing I would want to go near. The idea that anything edible might arise from this was quite laughable.

Walking around a little I soon came to what could only be described as a hovel. Which made me feel bad for all of the times I had scoffed in the past labeling other buildings as likewise. They certainly didn't deserve it looking at the state of this place.

At some shuffling behind me I whirled around to face…a puppy. Instinctively I stepped back, only to have it pad its way over me inquisitively. Okay, so it wasn't feral, in fact it looked pretty well looked after. I had never had a pet in my life and had no idea how to respond to the little creature sniffing at my shoes.

"Hello, are you a tourist?"

I jumped a little to hear the voice (and yes, for a spilt second I did think it came from the puppy), but it was nothing compared to taking in the appearance of the owner. He was of short stature, late middle aged and smiling. Well God knows I wouldn't be in his clothes.

A tomato red suit, yellow trimmings, mustachioed (and how) and…oh my…that hat.

"I, ah…uh this here." I eloquently said while thrusting the leaflet to him, still quite confounded by his look. Wow, he better on his way to a costume party or there I _no _excuse.

"MT Realtor told you that you can live a refreshing life on the farm? _You're _the new farmer?"

Before I even had a chance to reply he burst into laughter. _Take a good look at yourself girl, some short guy with a mustache twice the width of his own head is laughing at you. Something has gone very, very wrong with your life. _

"You've been tricked! It used to be a gorgeous farm, but not any more since the owner passed away. As you can see no one's been taking care of it. Not many people want to work on the farm now.

So they decided to make the advert sound more attractive. Every now and then, people who have seen the ad come here. Just like yourself."

God, will this guy shut up? "Well actually I-"

"But as soon as they see the farm they get disappointed and leave, just like that. It's been a while since the last one came through…"

"Yes, but-"

"I see. You believed that cheesy advertisement. Ha ha ha!"

"Hey! Listen here you-"

"Ha ha ha-"

A good ol' smack upside the head stops his snickering, but oddly does not knock his hat off. It didn't even wobble. I wonder if he even sleeps in it…

"Okay, okay, sorry. Please stop hitting me."

"Look here, this is a mistake. Through various…_events_, I wound up here but I just need to contact my boss and see if I can get this whole thing sorted ou-"

"I see. You quit your job and moved out of your apartment, that's too bad…" I don't correct him as I'm not entirely sure if he's right or not. I do however swipe my hand at him for interrupting me again; but he moves back as though contemplating something.

"Hey, why don't you just try and run the farm?"

"…dude, are you for real?" This guy's even more of his nut than first suspected.

"The house is livable, and actually pretty nice. If you work hard I think you'll be happy here. As the mayor of this town I will help you as much as I can."

Wait, wait, hold the phone- this guy is _mayor. _I can see this place is lacking, but come on townspeople, _standards._ What kind of freaks voted this guy to lead them? Hopefully I won't ever have to find out.

He started to walk off, bucket hat bobbing up and down with his springy steps. This is the man that's going to help me. Oh _goody. _

"Hey, wait! Can you at least tell me where I can find a payphone or something?"

"Try the inn, just ask Doug at the counter for help, and try some of his pie while you're there! If you're going to be a resident of Mineral Town you'll need to know all about our many fine attractions!"

This guy has some severe case of selective hearing, or he's crazy, or just- no wait, he's just crazy.

It's getting late and as much as I just want to escape and go back home, I can't deal with that right now. First of all I have to call my boss, something I'm really not looking forward to. Something terrible happened, much worse than office Christmas party incident, or that time I accidentally reversed into his car, or that time- just the worst yet really I'm sure of it.

"I guess it's just you and me puppy." The animal looked my way and for a moment, I could see what all the fuss was about. It was kind of cute. Slowly walking towards it, I bent down awkwardly placing my hands around it to pick it up. Okay, this isn't so bad. Just be careful, don't drop it.

The puppy seemed perfectly at ease and at touch amused at my anxiousness as I all but cradled it towards the house.

"You can stay inside here with me tonight. It will get chilly and if your owner lets you wander off to this dump they probably won't miss you for a night." Well, I say this now but knowing my luck I see little lost puppy posters everywhere put up by a tearful child the next morning. I wonder what the penalty for dognapping is here.

Or maybe I was being cruel, after all it may be cold outside but the likelihood of this place collapsing on us in the night didn't seem so inconsiderable either.

.x

**AN ****Whew! First chapter over and I had a great time writing it. Oh Claire you old misery guts! Don't worry though; she'll warm up to the town eventually. **

**Next time: Claire finds out some of what happened that infamous Friday night, naming the farm/puppy, meeting some townsfolk and miscellaneous shenanigans. **

**Out of curiosity what do you guys usually name your farms/puppies/farmers? Note this will NOT affect this story, but it would be cool to hear from you guys! **

**None of my friends have ever been into HM so I look forward to asking you guys all sorts of game related questions. Please review, it's vital I know how it's going. I get discouraged very easily, though constructive criticism is welcome! **

**See you next time xxx**


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